The Yard

Ask me what time is it
He says, grinning, mousey
I have a watch, I point
You don’t have a watch
Ask me what time is it
Poor as a church mouse
Not that I gathered, then
Just slightly surprised when
I went to his home
How narrow and near the school it sat

The class in two halves
Two classes of birthday
Down in the village, terrace houses
Up in the hills, mansion houses
(and a castle too, rubber)
And me wandering the middle
But not the middle point;
A stranger off a ten-mile bus
Born in the summer

Ask me what time is it
Cén t-am é?
His sleeve goes up
And there in a mess of blue
Pen on his wrist
Time you got a fucking watch
We laugh
I have a watch